


A Favor

by CircuitSaloon



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Gen, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:42:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28202562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CircuitSaloon/pseuds/CircuitSaloon
Summary: Doodad just wants Crowbar to be a little happy, that's all.
Kudos: 3





	A Favor

**Author's Note:**

> I had this idea while working on a separate project...I didn't think it would turn out so long, though. Anyway, I hope you like it!

Thankfully, the box wasn’t too heavy as Doodad carried it through the corridors of the Lost Light. He had been instructed by Shortfuse to take some medical supplies to Ratchet.

He liked visiting Ratchet’s medbay. It gave him the opportunity to get out of Shortfuse’s and look around some. Doodad was a very curious mech, that is to say, _he gets distracted easily._ He’d ask Ratchet “what’s that?” at least a handful of times before the ambulance would thank him for whatever had brought him into the medbay that day to dismiss him. 

But as he walked past an open door in the current corridor he was in, something caught his attention. The power cell back tracked enough to look into the room, which was set up like one of those boring meeting rooms, and saw someone sitting alone.

It was Crowbar.

“Hey there, Crowbar!” Doodad exclaimed, stepping into the room for a brief moment. Crowbar looked up from his datapad with a slight frown.

“Oh, hey,” the motorcycle replied. He sounded kinda bummed out, which Doodad quickly picked up on.

“What’s this?” Doodad asked, looking around the room.

“It’s the Autobot Appreciation Club...”

“Oh, wow! You’ve got your own club?! That's so cool!” Doodad giggled, happy for Crowbar. “When’s it start?” he asked enthusiastically. Crowbar, still frowning a bit, looked at his wrist joint as a digital clock transformed into sight.

“...Over an hour ago...”

“Oh,” Doodad said. “It looks like the other club members are a little late, huh?” he joked, trying to lighten Crowbar’s mood a bit.

“I’m the only one...” 

Doodad started frowning, not really knowing what to say now. “Oh,” he repeated, trying to find something to say. “Um, well...I’ve got to go. I’ll see you around,” Doodad said as he walked back into the hallway to Ratchet’s medbay. Crowbar looked back down at his datapad, a slight frown still clinging onto his lips.

* * *

After they had finished their shifts at Shortfuse’s medbay, Doodad, Gizmo, and Surge went to where most mechs would go after a day of good work. The trio of power cells sat in their regular booth at Swerve’s and were drinking and chatting. Well, _Gizmo and Surge_ were doing most of the drinking and chatting. Doodad just played with the little straw in his drink.

“Hey,” Gizmo said aloud, giving Doodad a gentle nudge with her pede under the table. “What’s up with _you?_ You’re too quiet.” Doodad said nothing, further drawing the attention of his two conjunxes.

“You ok?” Surge asked, emphasizing the pair’s concern over him. Doodad let out a sigh.

“When I went to deliver that box of stuff to Ratchet I saw Crowbar sitting in a room all by himself...he looked super lonely and sad...” Doodad pouted.

“Oh, you mean that _Autobot club_ he started?” asked Surge rhetorically.

“Yeah!” Doodad replied. “I don’t understand...this ship is full of Autobots! And he was all alone...”

 _“Sweetspark,”_ Gizmo said softly, reaching across the table to place her servo on top of his, _“it’s Crowbar.”_

“Yeah, but...”

“He’s ruined his reputation on his own. You can’t blame people for not wanting to spend time with him,” Surge added.

Doodad pouted still. He liked Crowbar and didn’t want him to be sad.

He decided that he had to do something.

* * *

There were a lot of hoops Doodad had to jump through to get into the Second in Command’s office for a “personal” appointment. Lots of forms and emails were filled out and exchanged during the extensive verification process. But he got it done, and he was given a specific time and date for his meeting with Ultra Magnus.

Doodad looked up at the massive mech who looked back down at him with a stern expression. He had heard that Ultra Magnus had chronic resting glitch face so he wasn’t bothered by it.

“I appreciate the time you took putting in your application to see me,” Ultra Magnus said.

“There’s no time for pleasantries,” Doodad said, making the most serious face he could muster while crossing his arms over his chest. “This is serious business, sir.” Ultra Magnus laced his fingers together on top of his desk, nodding at the minibot.

“I understand,” the larger mech responded, thinking this was actually going to be about serious business. “What is it that you needed to talk to me about so urgently?”

“I need a favor,” announced the smaller mech. The SIC stared at him, this person that he had never met before, telling him that he needed _a favor._

“I don’t do favors,” Ultra Magnus said back.

“Well, maybe _this_ will change your mind,” Doodad smirked, taking out something from his subspace and sliding it across the enforcer’s desk.

It was a Rodimus Star.

The bigger mech picked up the object as if he had never seen one before. _“For being a total doll and a great kisser,”_ Ultra Magnus read to himself. He looked back at the power cell who was grinning at him. “If this is some kind of ‘joke’ then I’m afraid I don’t get it and you’re wasting my time,” he said back to Doodad.

“Well, Captain Rodimus said that I could use it to get a favor for anything I want, and he's in charge so...,” he clarified.

“And when did he say _that?”_ Ultra Magnus asked.

“After we finished making out,” Doodad answered.

Ultra Magnus sighed. This was the exact kind of thing Rodimus would do, so he knew what Doodad was saying had to be true. But he’d have to talk to the Co-Captain about issuing out Rodimus Stars as favors.

“My ability to execute this favor depends on what it is. There are limitations as to what I will and will not do.”

Doodad's face lit up as he told Ultra Magnus what he had in mind.

* * *

Rodimus had been carving yet another doodle into his desk when Ultra Magnus had comm’d him, letting the red mech know he was on his way for yet another _delightful_ conversation. He took out one of his tablet sized datapads and covered up the fresh engraving on the desktop with it. He didn’t want this conversation to start off with a chastisement about casual vandalism. After a few minutes, his Second arrived on time as usual.

“Good timing, Magnus,” the prime said, holding one of his smaller datapads near his face. “Turn on your headlights for just a second. I need good lighting for this selfie.”

“Rodimus, I don’t have time for that.”

“Ugh, _fine,”_ the flame colored mech scoffed. “What’s up?” he asked, straightening his posture and setting down his device.

“Are you passing out Rodimus Stars as tokens for favors? If so, we need to have a serious talk about the ethical implications of it.”

“Huh? What are you talking about?”

“I just had a power cell come into my office using a Rodimus Star you had given him as a tool for negotiation.”

“Doodad? Dark blue with the tooth gap, right?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, frag _me,”_ Rodimus cursed, slumping into his chair.

“...I beg your pardon?”

“I wanted him to give it back to _me,_ not give it to _you.”_

“I don’t follow.”

Rodimus sighed.

“Don’t you know anything about flirting, Magnus?”

“I can’t say I do, no. Not really.”

“That’s sad,” Rodimus said. “But to answer your question, he was the only one I said that to. Can’t a guy try to get laid without causing a breach in ethics? And before you say anything I want to clarify that I was being rhetorical.”

Ultra Magnus closed his intake, swallowing the words he was about to use to answer the rhetorical remark.

“Just out of curiosity,” the co-captain continued, “what was the favor he asked for?”

* * *

Alone again, Crowbar found himself staring into the screen of his datapad in the rented meeting room. He was sure this club idea he had would have given him the opportunity to talk to...officially recognized Autobots, or at least people that shared his opinions about faction based politics. But no. Every week that went by gave the same results. 

By now he was used to it, but he decided to just take the weekly allotted time given to him in the space to use to his own benefit. He read archived pieces he had been meaning to read, wrote up forum posts to submit online, and drew pictures of Megatron in various prison cells. It was the self care he deserved.

As he was drawing up another sketch, there was a knock at the door. He figured it must have been one of the janitors on duty. They had come in every once in a while. They never talked to him, though.

“Come in,” Crowbar shouted flatly. His optics remained locked on the screen of his datapad as he moved the stylus across it. It was only until the person entering began speaking that he looked up from what he was doing.

“Are you Crowbar of Iacon?” Ultra Magnus asked.

 _“Oh, my god,”_ Crowbar whispered, his optics resetting themselves over and over again, unbelieving of the sight before him.

“I didn’t catch that. Please, speak up.”

“YES, THAT’S ME. I’M CROWBAR OF IACON.” Crowbar blushed, embarrassed at the sudden high volume output of his vocalizer.

“I’ve gotten word from a power cell friend of yours that you wanted to ‘hang out,’ or whatever it is you younger mechs do. I’m afraid my time is limited, though.”

Crowbar’s mouth hung open in complete and utter shock. Was this real? Was this _really happening?_

“I can see something’s wrong with your jaw. Perhaps you’d like me to escort you to the medbay.”

“N-No, no. I’m good. Fine. Perfect,” the motorcycle stammered.

“Very well. I’ll...just take a seat then.”

Crowbar had dreamed of this scenario more times than he had tried to issue a citizen's arrest. But now he was drawing blanks. What was he suppose to do now? Ultra Magnus was right in front of him! He prayed that he wouldn’t say something stupid.

“Will you autograph my fanart?”

Too late.

“Your _what?”_

“Uh, I mean, um...will you autograph a headshot I drew...of you...?” Crowbar’s face felt like it was about to melt off. This had to be a dream.

“I usually don’t do autographs, but I’ll make an exception just this once.”

Crowbar’s spark was about to burn a hole through his chest cavity as he opened up the image file of his favorite headshot he had drawn of the semi and handed the datapad and stylus over to him. Ultra Magnus’ optics scanned over the piece of artwork before widening slightly.

“This is,” he began, _“extremely detailed and well drawn.”_ Crowbar blushed harder at his words.

“O-Oh, thank you,” Crowbar said bashfully. “...I did it from my memory relays.”

 _“Incredible,”_ Ultra Magnus replied.

Yep, this was definitely a dream.

“Do you have any more?” Ultra Magnus asked the smaller mech. “Artwork, I mean.”

“I...yes, I do,” Crowbar answered back. He extended his hand towards the other and took back his datapad, locating a specific file before handing it back. Ultra Magnus swiped through the images, seeing various drawings of himself, Optimus Prime, illustrations of battles, and the like. There were more pictures of himself than anything else, but they were all very good.

“You’re a very talented artist, Crowbar.”

“I...don’t know what to say,” he laughed nervously. What are you supposed to say to your idol who’s complimenting you? “I’m a big fan,” is what he eventually said.

“Hm. I’m surprised to hear that,” Ultra Magnus said with an unsurprised tone and expression. “I don’t have many fans. Outside of battle or politics I’m not a very likable person, I suppose.”

“The Duly Appointed Enforcer of the Tyrest Accord found _unlikable?_ I don’t believe that,” Crowbar said, feeling a little bold in his statement.

“Well, believe it. But the opinions of others don’t phase me. They do not make me falter.” Crowbar listened as Ultra Magnus spoke, his optics wide and bright. He was hanging onto every word and cramming them into his spark. “My apologies. I’m beginning to ramble.”

“No, please. Ramble some more. I insist,” Crowbar blurted out.

So he did, and Crowbar listened, making a mental note to thank Doodad later.

**Author's Note:**

> If you like this fic or the characters in it you can read more about them in Hammer & Nails, my original Transformers series in my Works section. You can also find me @CircuitSaloon on Twitter!


End file.
